The thrill is gone
by headcasephile
Summary: What really happened in Arcadia that night. You might not like this ending... I don't... But I felt it was more in keeping with the canon. If you'd prefer I continue and fix what Scully inadvertently broke, please review ;) MSR Edit: I fixed it ;D
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, Laura..." He patted the bed next to him. "We're married now..."

What would he do if I just walked over there and lay down? she thought. Probably run a mile. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Scully, Mulder." She jerked her head toward the door. "Goodnight".

That pouting bottom lip. Aargh. He grabbed a pillow and squeezed past her, the pillow brushing against her nipples under the fabric of her nightwear. Fuck's sake.

"The thrill is gone" he pouted. Speak for yourself, she thought.

* * *

She woke up to the sound of her name being moaned ever so lightly, and suddenly was aware that it was Mulder.

Wham, it hit her. Mulder was in her bed.

Mulder was asleep. Mulder was moaning her name... Wham.

Then, a tug on her thigh, and another... a rhythmic tugging... his hand.

His hand was on her thigh. Wham.

Her heart stuttered. And he was...

Tug... tug... "Scul..."

Holy hell he was thrusting in his sleep.

WHAM.

Heart thumping, she tried to say his name, but no sound came past the giant lump in her throat. Swallowing, she tried again, and managed a very shaky, "Mulder".

The only result was that his moaning got louder.

"Scully... yes... oh Scully..."

Oh Christ, she thought. Trembling from head to foot, she reached out a hand and touched his shoulder. "Mulder, please, wake up."

"Scully..." he panted, still asleep. "Oh fuck, Scully..." Blushing scarlet, she shook him hard. "Scu..." his eyes opened with her name on his lips, and he blinked heavily at her. "Scully? What the..."

"You're..." her voice went from tiny to nothing as she pulled her trembling hand back.

"Is this... where are..." he was groggily trying to get his bearings.

She pulled herself together enough to say "You're in my bed", and, she congratulated herself, she managed to make it sound something between an explanation and an accusation, rather than a squeak.

"I'm sorry, it was so cold downstairs and the sofa is about a mile too short, and I would have asked permission but you looked so peaceful..." he started to pull away from her, but his hand sliding across her thigh drew both their attention. His eyes widened. If he had been the type to blush, he would have.

"God, Scully, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." then a thought seemed to cross his mind and suddenly he looked mortified. "Scully, was I... I mean, I wasn't... I didn't..."

His embarrassment seemed to decrease hers.

"You were talking in your sleep, yes..."

He covered his eyes with a hand. "Oh God. Oh God. Did I... what did I say?"

She had to save him from this. Both to diminish his embarrassment, and to avoid a potential awkwardness that might even destroy their friendship. She took a deep breath and put on her 'business' voice. "My name, I'm afraid. You were... dreaming about me. I know. But before you let the ground swallow you up, remember that we cannot help what we dream. You spend most of your time with me, it's only natural I should appear in your dreams sometimes."

He looked up, through his fingers, unknowingly causing her to melt with protective feelings. "But in... that way? Scully I'm so embarrassed..."

"It doesn't mean anything. You know that. You've probably dreamed... 'that way'... about many people you wouldn't ever... Hell, you might even have dreamed of Skinner!" She tried to inject some humor into the situation, and it seemed to work; he barked out a laugh, and the relief of tension was palpable.

"Actually there was this one time..." he was Mulder again, dry, self-deprecating jokes and all. "I couldn't look him in the eye for a week".

She giggled, relieved that they seemed to have dodged that bullet. "Me too; one time I dreamed he grabbed me in the elevator and pushed me up against the wall and kissed me senseless, and I tore open his shirt and he has the sexiest chest, and I was running my tongue up it, and he lifted me onto the hand rail and hitched up my..." realizing what she was saying, she suddenly clamped her mouth shut and flushed crimson. "Sorry." she cleared her throat "Got carried away there." She cleared her throat again and tried to brush aside her sudden embarrassment. "But that's my point, we dream about the people in our lives. It's understandable."

There was silence. He was looking at her in a strange way. "You... you think Skinner is sexy, huh?"

"Well duh, me and the rest of the world..." Somehow a wall had come down and she felt free to discuss things she would never have dreamed of telling him yesterday. But he was looking at her with such utter shock and dismay that she suddenly wished she had kept her mouth shut. Backpedalling, she said "But it doesn't mean I want to actually do anything with him, that's the point. Dreams are just random neurons firing, so if I was in an elevator with him, and then later saw a couple making out or something, those neurons might fire together while I'm sleeping, while memories are being consolidated, and that would cause me to dream that he was..." She trailed off. "You see the point? It's just random neurons. So don't be embarrassed." She was speaking way too fast. The ensuing silence was loud.

"So you don't actually think of him in that way?"

"Well I'm not saying I wouldn't... I mean... I don't want to actually be with him or anything. Why are you even asking? This conversation has gone somewhere strange, huh."

He relaxed. "I guess that can happen when your random neurons cause you to sleep-hump your partner."

She snorted a laugh, once again feeling relieved. If he was dead-panning, things must be okay. Phew.

"Well Scully, it's 3.30am, so how about we get some sleep." He leaned towards her, a suggestive look on his face "That is, if you'll trust me not to touch you."

She flushed, as a mental image forced itself upon her. Thanks for that, Mulder, she thought, I'm not getting back to sleep anytime soon now. Aloud, she said "Of course I trust you Mulder. I'm not about to make you sleep on a couch that's, I quote, 'a mile too short'."

"Thank you Scully, I really appreciate that. Goodnight, Honeybunch"

"Goodnight, Poopyhead."

* * *

He was woken by a severe hard-on at about 7.30am. A little hand was resting on his chest, and a head of silky hair was nestled into his shoulder. He bit his lip, hard. She smelled wonderful. His heart ached to think this would be the only time he would ever have her in his arms like this. He turned his face into her hair and breathed in the scent of coconut, and couldn't help hugging her to him a little. Then he froze, afraid that the motion would wake her up and end this. She moved slightly, and muttered something incoherent. He waited a moment, but she did not move again. He exhaled. If only she would dream of him the way he always dreamed of her. Random neuron-firing my ass, he thought. Wish I could make HER neurons fire like that.

A thought struck him. Why not? People were highly suggestible while dreaming. Her movement indicated she was not deeply asleep, and... yes, her eyes were fluttering. She was dreaming. Now if he could suggest some things to her, he might be able to get her to dream what he wanted her to dream.

"Scully..." he whispered, barely making any sound at all, for fear of waking her. He ran a finger ever-so-lightly from behind her ear, down her neck, along her collarbone. She shuddered in her sleep and he gave himself a mental high-five. He bent his lips to touch her ear, blowing into it slightly. "It's me Scully. It's Mulder." She made a tiny sound like 'muh', which he took to indicate success so far. Yesss.

"I want to kiss you Scully. So much. It's driving me mad." He ran a finger along her lips, and little bursts of joy went off in his head as she tilted her chin towards the finger. "Your lips are so soft" Oh God, they were. So perfect. How much he wanted to just crush her mouth to his, but obviously that would wake her. And ruin everything forever.

"I want you Scully." Her eyebrows drew together slightly and her lips parted. He wondered what form this dream had taken. Maybe he should take charge of that. He could set the scene somewhere they spent a lot of time, so that maybe she might remember this dream each time they were there. The more often, the better.

"We're in the office right now, Scully. I have you rammed up against the filing cabinet." Her breathing had sped up. Oh yes. He licked his lips so that his tongue brushed her ear. "I just can't hold it back any longer. I'm going to fuck you till you don't know your own name." She whimpered. "You remember mine though. You're calling out my name as I make you come over and over and over..." she was breathing hard, and he could see her rapid pulse in her neck. But he had to be sure it was him she was dreaming of. "You're screaming my name, Scully... You're crying out, 'Mulder, Mulder...'" She moaned then, moaned his name! And again! Ohmygodyes. He mentally danced a jig all around the room, and then had a wicked thought. Now would be a really good time for her to wake up. He leant over her, just a little closer than necessary, and shook her gently. "Scully, wake up, you're dreaming" he visualised horns appearing on his head and tried to suppress the wicked grin that was spreading across his face.

"Muller" she moaned, face flushed, lips trembling. He squeezed her shoulders, fighting back an irresistable urge to wake her by making her dream real. "Muh..." her eyes blinked open, and he wondered if this was how he had looked when she woke him up from his 'random neuron-firing'...

"It's okay Scully, I'm here."

"Whuh?" She looked utterly disoriented.

"You were having a nightmare" He cleared his throat. "I think." He suppressed another grin. "You called out for me. I'm here, Scully, you're okay"

"I was... what?"

* * *

She woke up from one HELL of a dream, with Mulder's face far too close to her own, and she was not sure at first whether she had indeed woken up. He was talking to her, saying something about a nightmare, and her calling out for him. That brought things into focus pretty sharply. She knew exactly why she had been calling his name, and it was NOTHING like a nightmare. She coloured instantly, thanking the powers that be that he had interpreted it as one.

"Are you okay now?" he was saying. She tried to answer, but her heart was still pounding, and sending pulses downward, to where... oh Christ on a cracker, she could feel him against her, and he was hard. Really hard. She tried again to form an intelligent sentence, but her brain was still too fuzzy. Oh she wanted him. So fucking much. Her head swam as she gazed at that bottom lip and visualised taking it between her teeth. Gaahhhh... She tried to mentally shake herself out of it, but he moved and she felt 'it' move right... there... and she very nearly broke apart lying right there beneath him. Holy hell, how had she got into this situation? Lying underneath Mulder's obviously aroused body, on the brink of orgasm. And how the hell was she going to get out of it?

"Scully talk to me, are you okay?"

"Uh... Mul..." Fuck, she couldn't even form words.

Then he kissed her, and the world came apart.

* * *

Okay, this did not go quite according to plan. He was not supposed to kiss her. He had planned to play with her a bit, to 'realise' that she had been dreaming about him, to embarrass her like he had been embarrassed, and maybe say something about random effing neurons. Then he had planned to tease her about the dream any time he was bored or horny, and see if he could make her blush, have a little fun. But he had totally lost control, lying there on top of her as she struggled to come down from what looked like pretty near the edge, and he had kissed her. It had not been a conscious decision. He had no choice. He had just kissed her. And she had gone wild. It was only a few seconds, but they were eternal, and they were heaven.

And then she had come back down to earth, and looked at him with horror, and struggled out of his arms and as far away from him as possible on the bed, and now she was huddled there, hugging her knees and trying not to cry. How had heaven become hell so quickly?

* * *

"I can't believe that just happened." She managed in a very small voice, looking at her feet.

"I can't believe it hadn't happened before." He said, not taking his eyes from her.

She looked up at him then. "What?"

"You heard me."

"But... I don't understand" She shook her head as if trying to rid herself of something.

"Come on, Scully. I know you were dreaming about me. And you know I was dreaming about you. You know it's not the first time, either, for either of us."

What? He couldn't know that. She'd been so careful to hide it from him.

"Random neurons my ass. You know it's more than that."

"But... we do spend more time together than with anyone else..."

"And if you were a dude, and I was dreaming like that, I'd be believing that neuron theory with all my heart."

She rolled her eyes. "You'd be less likely to dream about a guy, obviously. But you spend all your time with a woman, and... forgive me, but I know you've not gotten laid in forever, so it stands to reason that..."

"Don't 'scientist' me, please. It's too late. I want you, and you know it. You can't escape that."

He made a movement towards her, and, panicking slightly, she tried to back away, but her back was already pressed against the wall.

"We can't... It's not... Okay, I know it's not just randomly-firing neurons. But there are physiological consequences of... of being sexually inactive. It's true. It's like when you're really hungry, everything vaguely edible looks and smells delicious. And tastes delicious, if you get to eat it."

"Delicious" he repeated, looking her up and down once and then locking gaze with her. Her mouth opened, but no words seemed forthcoming. She tried to look away, but failed miserably. He couldn't know how much she ached to believe he could really want her.

"You just THINK that, because you're hungry, and I'm the only food around. You need to do something besides work, for a change. Go out, meet women." She felt something crack inside her as she said the words, saw the image of him with someone else. But surely that was better than to let him in, let him work out his frustrations on her, and then once he felt better, he would end it and she would never be okay ever again. No, better to see him with someone else now, than after THAT.

"I met one already. I'm looking at her right now. And I have a nagging feeling she wants me too."

All my fault, she thought. Why couldn't I hide better. If I hadn't let him see, he wouldn't consider me the easiest, closest option. Lazy asshole. Go pull some bimbo, don't just break the heart of whoever's nearest. She looked away and swallowed. "Look, I don't want to ruin everything we have, just because of some random burst of hormones"

If she could have brought herself to look at his face, she would have seen the moment his heart broke.

However, by the time the silence became uncomfortable, he had composed himself enough that when she finally looked up at him, he was able to say in a relatively steady voice "No, you're right, that would be stupid."

A strange mixture of relief and a foolish disappointment washed through her. She suddenly forgave him for considering her as an option for working out his frustrations; he was a guy after all, and they probably were more inclined to be slaves to their sexual whims. He looked unhappy now, and she was filled with the need to comfort him.

"I can't lose you." She explained, almost apologetically. She saw something flash across his face, a quiver of the lip, but it was gone before she could decide what it was.

"No. Yes, I mean. I mean, I feel the same. I'm... I'm going to take a shower. See you in a bit."

And he was gone, leaving nothing but emptiness.


	2. Chapter 2

**This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I agree with reviewers that they can't just leave it like this!**

* * *

_Scully's apartment_

It had been an awkward week.

Mulder had barely made eye contact with her since that awful night... That amazing, wonderful, awful night. The night that she re-lived every time she lay down to sleep, just like now, dwelling on every detail, pondering the 'what-if's. If she had made a different decision that night... She could be in his arms right now.

But instead, he didn't seem to want to even talk to her. There had been none of their usual banter, no dry wit flung her way. He seemed miserable. Surely if there was something getting him down, he would tell her? She was his best friend, right?

Unless he was sulking because she hadn't jumped into bed with him the moment he'd had a whim to do so. Could he really think what they had was worth so little that he'd risk it for a roll in the hay?

The inevitable mental pictures began to form; a hay-barn, a muscled naked back, an ass she could just take a bite out of... She wrestled her mind back under her control. Fantasies are never any good in reality, she told herself. For example, a barn is always about six inches deep in some kind of animal shit. It stinks. NOT romantic.

Ahh, that's a bit better... turned the fire down a little.

Mulder in a firefighter's uniform.

Damn.

Ah well, in for a penny...

She settled back onto her pillows.

* * *

He was still in the office, doing more than his fair share of the paperwork. 'For once', he thought to himself. Scully usually shouldered more than her share. But he didn't want to think, so he was throwing himself into the work. He wished there was something more engaging to do than paperwork though; his mind kept wandering to that place where it hurt to go.

She didn't love him.

He pushed the thought away and forced himself to focus on the pages in front of him. For the fifth time, he attempted to read a sentence about motel expenses.

How many motels had they stayed in together. How many times had he lain awake thinking of her in the adjoining room. Wondering if she was thinking of him. As the years had gone by, he had grown more and more confident that she WAS. Had begun to put suggestive comments out there, test the waters... not that she ever took the bait. She was not called the ice queen for no reason. But he had somehow felt that underneath that icy facade, her feelings for him were warm. Hot, even.

But they weren't.

The gnawing ache in his chest gave a particularly painful twang, and he gritted his teeth and read the paragraph aloud, forcing the words into his brain to push out its other contents.

"From September 1, room rates and taxes must be entered separately on form 24.B.2, following policy changes. Room service bills must be itemised; alcohol will not be reimbursed."

That time she had gotten a bottle of champagne from room service for his birthday. The fact that she had done it despite how it would look to the higher-ups was worth more to him than the champagne itself. Surely she wouldn't put her reputation on the line for something silly like a birthday, unless she really cared?

But she didn't.

Her feelings for him were no more than friendship. Her reaction to him that night was nothing but 'a random burst of hormones'. Oh, those words had hit him like nails in the heart. Hormones. Nothing more. That dream he had instigated had backfired right in his face. She was right; a dream meant nothing, and all it had done was cause a 'random burst of hormones' that made her take temporary leave of her senses. And ultimately had answered a question he had been pondering for years. If only he had not done such a stupid thing, he might have gone on in blissful ignorance, believing they might one day end up together. Though, that would just have been postponing the moment of agony. At some point, it would have come to a head, and she would have turned him down, gently and with a look of pity in her beautiful eyes for the pathetic excuse for a human being that was Fox Mulder. Or he would have lost it and jumped her and she'd have shot him. And then left him. Or, she would have met someone, and he would have quietly died inside without ever telling her how he felt.

Better to know now, he thought. Better not to drag it out.

But how was he to work with her every day, to look at her, to want her, and to KNOW, now, to KNOW it would never be.

What was the alternative, though? To somehow get her out of his life, to never look at her, be with her, talk with her? His heart crumpled with the thought. He was damned either way. But he had to make a decision. Which course of action would hurt the least?

Suddenly he hated himself. Here he was, selfishly thinking only of how HE would be affected, deciding what to do based on what would be best for HIM. This decision would affect the course of her life. If he was damned either way, and if he loved her, he should decide based on what would be best for HER. Working with him had only stopped her from living a full life, meeting someone (ouch), adopting children (more ouch), progressing in her career...

Being with her sister...

He was a curse. He was an albatross around her neck. He would get out of her life as soon as possible. Have a word with the boys upstairs. They all thought she was wasted on the x-files anyway. Unlike him, SHE was not the FBI's most unwanted. She did not belong in the basement. Her talents could be used in all sorts of other areas.

He cursed his one-track-mind for immediately presenting him with a picture of a potential talent of hers that he would now never find out about. God dammit. He dropped his head down on the desk, a little harder than he'd meant to.

"Fuck!"

Ouch. Great. Now he had a headache, and probably a nice red mark on his forehead. Attractive. He was a hopeless case.

Tomorrow, he'd go talk to Skinner. Tonight, he'd drink himself to sleep on his couch.

* * *

"Did you think I wouldn't have any questions about this?" Skinner was finding it hard to keep his voice calm. "Did you think I'd just wave you on? You're essentially asking to wash your hands of the partner you've been dedicated to for years. What the hell happened between you?"

He did not answer.

"Does she even know you're asking this?"

A slight shake of the head.

"Does she even want this? Or are you just trying to get rid of her? What did she do wrong, Mulder? As far as I can see, she's had your back for years. You'd be a dead man many times over if it wasn't for Agent Scully."

"I know" Mulder sounded like a sulky child, but only because every word the man was saying was true, and he knew it.

"You should be grateful to have her on your team. Lord knows it's a small enough team."

"Yeah."

"Well? What went wrong? I'm waiting."

No answer.

"I can stall this request as long as I want, even if you go around me. I can do that, you know."

Mulder looked at his shoes, maintaining his sullen silence.

"Well, Mulder, when you want to talk to me, you know where I am. Until then, Agent Scully will continue to 'waste' her talents keeping your sorry ass company. That will be all, Agent."

Dismissed, Mulder left the room without looking at Skinner. Great, he thought, resisting the urge to scuff his shoe like a child. Well, I tried.

A small part of him felt a tiny stab of joy that Scully would remain in his life, but the greater part of him was overwhelmed with dread of the time ahead.

* * *

The door to the office slammed open, the knob deepening a pre-existing dent in the wall. The figure in the doorway was a study in scarlet; red hair, equally red face, and red flames practically shooting out of her eyes. She stormed towards him, and he physically backed away, forgetting that he was seated and nearly falling off his chair.

She slammed her bag down on his desk and hit him with a wall of sound.

"What the hell is going on, Mulder? Skinner has just told me you asked to have me transferred? Transferred! After everything I've done for you? Never mind how many times I've saved your career, or even your life. Never mind how many times I've traveled to the middle of butt-fuck nowhere on your whim. You've dragged me out of bed at ass-o-clock God knows how many times, and do I complain?"

Shrinking into himself as he stared at his own navel, he muttered "Frequently". If she heard him, she didn't pause in her tirade.

"I spend most of my life on the road, I haven't had a decent night's sleep in forever, I'm constantly covered in mud, or bile, or worse, or up to my elbows in rotting corpses, and when I'm not I'm buried in paperwork, seeing nothing but the 4 walls of this office. I have zero time for a personal life, and I put up with it, for you. Where did I mess up, Mulder? What on earth am I supposed to have done wrong?! What can I POSSIBLY have done except everything you've ever asked me to!"

"Not *everything*." He muttered to his navel, assuming she would miss this too. But she didn't.

"I beg your PARDON? Not everything? What else does his lordship require of me?" The sarcasm was heavy in her voice. "Perhaps I could clean your shoes? Dust your apartment? Would his lordship like a back rub? Seriously, what more can I do?"

The diatribe's abrupt pause left a ringing silence in the air. He couldn't look up at her.

"I'm actually asking, Mulder." She sounded calmer now, as if acknowledging his submissive posture. "Help me out here. I can't think of a single thing I've refused you."

He bit his lip and continued to stare at the floor.

It slowly dawned on her. She had been right. "Oh dear Lord. Please tell me you're not sulking because I wouldn't go to bed with you on a whim. There's almost no limit to what I'd do for you, Mulder, and you should damn well know that, but satisfying your physical needs is not in the repertoire of your best friend and partner. It's not a fair request." She folded her arms. "Quite honestly it's insulting that you consider me an option; Lord knows you could get any woman you want, if you just made five minutes of effort, so why risk what we have, Mulder, just for a screw? Is that all I'm worth to you?"

His eyes had opened so wide it almost hurt. THAT was how she'd interpreted what happened? Had she been referring to a random burst of HIS hormones, rather than hers? Oh God, that changed EVERYTHING.

"I... I can't believe you would think that, Scully." He managed to look at her. "How could you think I would use you like that?"

She looked honestly confused. "Well you seemed to be suggesting that we... I mean... why would you..."

Suddenly he was defensive. "Gee, Scully, what could it possibly mean? I kissed you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I couldn't help it. I wanted you. I told you that. But if you'll do me the *honor* of believing it wasn't a fucking whim, that maybe I'm not that much of an asshole, then, gee, what else could it possibly be? Work it out. You're supposed to be smart."

This pause seemed to stretch on forever, and he didn't take his eyes off her face. So many things seemed to flash across it as she looked at him; confusion, hope, fear, happiness, disbelief, uncertainty... she settled back on confusion.

"Mulder..." She bit her lip. "Why did you make this transfer request?"

He looked down, and said very quietly "Because you're better off without me".

There was a long pause.

"Honestly? Is that it?"

"You know it's true."

"That's not what I asked. Is that really the reason?"

He noticed she wasn't denying the truth of it. "It is."

Another long pause.

"Well I'm sorry but that's a fucking stupid reason, Mulder. I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions. We've been through this before. If I'm better off without you, I'm quite capable of getting a transfer. Do you know why I don't?"

He took a deep breath, wishing the answer was different. "Because this is your quest too, now. Because you enjoy the work, even though it's hard. You feel challenged, and you need that."

He felt her gaze draw his eyes to hers. They just looked at each other for a long time. Something hung in the air, unspoken. An additional reason that held them together. Each was almost sure what it was. Neither dared voice it.


	3. Chapter 3

_The woods off 8th street, Granthamstow, WA_

It was an ordinary case, by their standards. Weird as hell by the standards of any other agents of course, but hey. A series of seeming suicides in happy, healthy people had caught the attention of the police of Granthamstow, WA, and it had been found that every person who committed suicide had, shortly before their death, been found wandering in the nearby forest in a daze, near the site of a cave known in local legend as 'The Cave Of Spirits'. They seemed drunk, but it had not passed after a few hours as drunkenness does. In several of the cases police had pulled someone over for what looked like drunk driving, but a breathalyser test had been conducted and found no trace of alcohol. Police were baffled, and locals maintained that the suicides were not suicides, but that victims had been possessed by the spirits that dwelled in the cave.

Mulder and Scully had interviewed the families of the deceased, as well as the local constabulary, and Scully had examined the bodies, finding traces of an unknown substance in every one of the bodies. It could not be identified with the limited facilities at Granthamstow, so they had sent it to the lab at Quantico for analysis. They were now paying a visit to the site of the cave, though so far had found nothing but a stray cat sleeping in there.

"Smells awful in here."

"Says the woman who cuts up decomposing bodies for a living."

"So it must smell pretty bad, if even *I* say so."

"What's this stuff on the wall, Scully?"

"What stuff?" She walked over to look where his flashlight beam fell. "It's sort of green ooze."

"That's your scientific opinion?"

She raised an eyebrow, not that he could see it in the darkness of the cave. "I guess you think it's alien blood or something?"

"Ha."

He heard her hunker down, and then kissing sounds came from somewhere around his thighs. Momentarily thinking she had taken leave of her senses, his mind was instantly full of images he struggled to push away.

"Here, puss puss! Here, kitty!"

Feeling somewhat stupid, he followed the beam of her flashlight and saw two eyes glowing in the dark, as the cat stared at them.

"I guess we woke you up, huh pussy?" She was using babyvoice, and he was glad she couldn't see him roll his eyes.

"Hey, maybe the spirit of the cat possessed those people. You better be careful."

"Right, Mulder. Hey, puss-puss, you want the rest of my tuna sandwich?"

"Scully, in all seriousness, that thing is probably diseased. Don't touch it."

"I'm not going to. But the poor thing is starving."

"It's just a cat, Scully."

She didn't dignify this with a response. The cat made her think of Queequeg, her poor little dog who had suffered such a violent and untimely end. She opened the tuna sandwich and laid the two sides on the ground in front of her. The cat made no move to approach.

"I think we've seen enough, Scully. I want to get a sample of this quote-unquote 'green ooze' you're such an expert on, and then let's go."

"Ok Mulder." She stood up and straightened her suit while Mulder scraped some of the ooze into a baggy.

Suddenly he swore, and a chunk of rock came away from the wall of the cave, thudding to the ground near his foot. The cat, startled, shot towards the mouth of the cave, but Scully, stepping backwards automatically away from the falling stone, caught it with her heel. It yowled and scratched her leg, ruining her pantyhose, and then disappeared through the cave mouth.

"Ouch!" She said, shining her torch on the wound. It was bleeding, but not much.

"What? Are you okay?"

"That cat scratched me is all. I'm fine."

"That's what you get for trying to be nice to those things.

* * *

Back at the police station, they had confirmed the 'green ooze' was the same substance found in the bodies, but they still had not discovered how the victims had been contaminated.

"Can we call it a day, Mulder? It's dark and cold and I wanna get out of what remains of my pantyhose, I look like a... woah, head rush!" She put her hand to her head and blinked a few times.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just randomly got dizzy." She blinked a few more times and looked around, as if a little confused.

"You're probably tired. Let's call it a day. It's after five, and I've heard that some people finish work at five."

"They do? Wow. Must be nice."

He drove them back to the motel. Scully seemed increasingly sleepy during the ride, sometimes struggling to open her eyes again after blinking. She continued to look around as if something was strange. Halfway back, she suddenly decided the ruined pantyhose needed to come off straight away. In the car. While he was driving. He had managed to stay on the road, though. Just.

As they ascended the steps to the walkway that led to their rooms, she clutched his arm suddenly, as if to keep from falling.

"Okay there, Scully?"

"I'm still a bit dizzy."

"When did you last eat?"

"Breakfast."

"There you are then. I could eat, too. Come into my room, I'll call room service."

He fumbled with the swipe card and got the door open, and she walked clumsily to the bed and sat down heavily.

"The room is kinda spinning" She commented.

"Lay down. I'll get us some food."

She kicked off her shoes and lay back, closing her eyes. That made the spinning worse, so she opened them again, and followed the path of the ceiling fan as it rotated, too slowly to even move the air in the room. Another crappy motel. Another crappy day. Why did she keep doing this? Oh right, because she couldn't tear herself away from the man currently ordering lasagne from room service as he pushed his shoes off and shrugged out of his jacket. 'This is NOT healthy' she told herself for the billionth time. She knew that he was attracted to her; he had certainly shown that in Arcadia. And it wasn't a random burst of hormones either, he had said so in his office. He hadn't said what it WAS; he'd sarcastically acted like she ought to KNOW.

So if it wasn't a random one-off whim, then that meant he must at least think she was attractive. This thought made her glow inside. But it didn't mean she would do anything about it. If she allowed him to see what he meant to her, he would probably think she was pathetic, and pity her, and maybe they would have a few nights of fun but then he would get bored and she would be broken. Not worth it.

Part of her screamed in protest; it WOULD be worth it, remember what it was like when he kissed you? The room spun more than it's doing now! His lips were so soft yet possessive, his hands so warm and strong, holding the back of her head so firmly she couldn't have stopped the kiss if she'd wanted to. And she had not wanted to. Until she had come to her senses, and so had he, and he'd let go like she was on fire. Well, she had been...

"All done. How are you feeling?"

She dragged her mind back to the present. "Fine, the bed's not moving so much now!" She smiled at him and sat up. "I'm going to change clothes. Back in a minute." She unlocked the door which joined their two rooms, and disappeared.

A moment later she was back, her arms folded, jaw set and eyes closed.

"What's the matter?"

"My suitcase. With all my clothes. Is still at the morgue. Which closed at 5."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"You can borrow some of mine..." He pictured her in nothing but his black silk boxers, and mentally punched himself. "Here, I have a t shirt and pyjama pants" He began to fish around in his own suitcase. He found the t shirt. "Oh. I forgot I went running in it... you might not want to wear it. The pants are clean though." He tossed them to her, she caught them without looking away from him. "Guess you'll have to go topless" he winked.

"Thanks..." A sarcastic comment trailed off as she watched him walk towards her, unbuttoning his shirt. Her mind completed that little scenario in a way very different to the one happening in reality, and she blinked to shake it off.

"I've got another one." he explained. "It's not as clean, but it'll do for me". She realised she was gratuitously watching him take his shirt off, and managed to tear her gaze away from the lean shoulders and muscled chest that was revealed. He handed her the shirt, and she hoped he didn't notice her blush as she thanked him.

* * *

"Mmm, that was just what I needed" she said, finishing the last mouthful of lasagne.

"Feel better now?" He smiled

"Much" she said, lying back on the bed with a satisfied smile. He noticed that his shirt was comically large on her, and she had rolled up the sleeves several times. It made her look tiny. And it made him ache inside, for some reason.

"You mind if I put the TV on? There's a show on voodoo..."

"Go ahead" she rolled her eyes. Woah. That hadn't been a good idea; the room spun again. She was so sleepy. And so comfortable. Maybe if she just closed her eyes for a minute. She would go back to her room soon and go to bed. But she just couldn't bring herself to move.

He looked around in a few minutes and saw that she was fast asleep, hair spread out on the coverlet, hands each side of her head. Perfect position for pinning them there, a voice whispered in his head. He told it to shut up, and tried to focus on the TV. No point dwelling on something that could never happen. He had essentially told her how he felt, albeit sarcastically, and had given her the opportunity to tell him whether she stayed with him for the work, or for him... and she had said nothing. That would have been the moment, he thought, right then. She didn't take the opportunity, so probably she didn't feel that way about him. He would come to terms with it. At some point. But it had sometimes seemed as though she looked at him in a way that indicated more than friendship.

And there was that night... He forced himself not to think of how it had felt to kiss her, and to have her kiss him back, wildly, passionately, as an orgasm HE had caused ripped through her...

GAAHH. Just STOP.

He focussed with great difficulty on the screen, forcing himself to hear the words the presenter was saying.

After some time, he felt the bed move, and turned to see her propping herself up on her arms. His eyes were immediately drawn to the top two buttons of the shirt, which had come undone and were exposing part of a black bra containing the most perfect...

Stop. Just stop that.

He wrenched his eyes back to her face, but that didn't help much. Her hair was disheveled, and she looked all woozy from sleep, her eyes heavy and her lips parted... that voice in his head whispered that she looked like she'd just been fucked, but again he pushed it away, and shifted on the bed to 'rearrange himself' more comfortably. He was glad he was sitting down.

"Muller," she slurred "Hi." she smiled lazily at him. She MUST be sleepy, he thought. She seemed... odd.

"Hi, sleepyhead... you missed the bit with the guy with a bone through his nose. Fascinating stuff..."

"Fassnatin" she said, swaying slightly.

His eyes were drawn downwards again to that delicious cleavage.

"I feel funny" she informed him, a comically serious expression on her face.

"What sort of funny?" he asked. Certainly, she was behaving unusually.

She swung her feet off the side of the bed and tried to stand up, but fell down again. He stood up and gave her his hand, pulling her to her feet, but she staggered and fell right into him. Instinctively he put his arms round her, and then expected her to push herself back away from him, but she didn't.

"Mmm, you smell nice Muller" she slurred.

"Okay, you're officially behaving strangely." he pointed out. She felt wonderful in his arms, though. But clearly something was odd. He propped her back on her feet, where she swayed a little and bit her lip as she looked at him, a strange twinkle in her eyes.

"Hi" she said, a little smile curving her mouth.

"Hi indeed. How are we doing there?" he peered at her. "Are you okay?"

"M'fine Muller." she claimed. She seemed to be having trouble keeping her eyes open. She staggered again and he grabbed her shoulders to steady her. Standing this close to her, even more of that luscious chest was exposed to his view.

"Maybe we need to get you into bed" he suggested

She muttered at the floor something that sounded like "Now you're talkin'."

Was he supposed to hear that? He had heard it sure enough. Images flooded his brain, mostly involving throwing her down on this bed right here and now and ripping off the few remaining buttons on that shirt...

Suddenly, the thought of ripping brought back the vision of Scully in the car removing her ripped pantyhose, and that made him think of the scratch on her leg. That substance on the wall of the cave... wouldn't it be on the floor too? Wouldn't it have got onto the cat's claws? And thence into Scully. SHIT.

"Do you feel drunk, Scully?" still holding her shoulders, he bent to peer into her face, his eyes full of concern.

"Haven't tushed a drop" she informed him.

"Okay. You sit on the bed for a minute, okay? I'm going to make a phonecall"

Obediently, she sat down, looking up at him with eyes so trusting and innocent it was a challenge to tear his gaze away to find his phone. Fighting down panic as he routed through his suit and pants pockets, he found it and dialed the lab. Thank goodness not everyone stopped work at five.

* * *

"You're going to be fine, Scully. The substance is broken down within a couple of days, and passes out of your system"

"Sub-what?" she blinked at him.

"Those suicides were simply accidents. People wandering around in a daze, accidentally falling off bridges, train platforms... that's something I didn't notice before; none of the suicides used methods that required planning. No car exhaust, no guns, no hanging. All the victims were seen ostensibly throwing themselves into danger's path, but they didn't intend to do so. They were just off their heads. Like you. But I'm going to watch you and make sure you don't come to harm."

"You're nice."

"Yes, I'm nice. Now how about we get you into bed? I don't trust you to be alone, so I hope you won't mind sleeping in here. It's that or handcuff you to your bed.

"Ooh! Fun." a wicked smile lit her face and she was looking at him in a way that made his pants feel somewhat uncomfortable. And then more uncomfortable, as she came towards him and started fingering a button on his shirt, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. Oh God.

"Nice shirt" she said inconsequentially, as she popped one of the buttons. His hand closed over her wrist. It felt tiny.

"Please Scully, don't do that" Please Scully, DO do that. Please please please.

"Why not?" the fingers of her other hand started to walk up his chest and a shiver ran through his whole body.

"Scully I don't know if you'll remember this when you're... yourself again, but if you do, you're going to be mortified." Oh fuck, her fingers had reached his collar, and were running up his collarbone to his ear. His head was starting to go fuzzy, but he knew he had to stop this, or she'd never speak to him again when she recovered her senses.

He grabbed her other wrist, and moved forward to propel her to the bed. She did not move with him, and now she was pressed against him, her lips dangerously close to his neck. He could feel her breath tickling his skin, and then, Holy Fuck, that was her tongue.

"Scully please!" He sounded desperate now. "Please don't... I don't want to do something we'll both regret"

"Like what?" she whispered, her lips brushing his ear as she stood on tiptoes. Gggnnnnn...

"Please, Scully..." he held her wrists behind her back in one hand and tried to push her away with the other, but she got them free and reached up to grab his collar with both hands and pull him towards her. "Fuck! If you don't stop, I'm going to have to..." the end of that sentence was going to be 'handcuff you to the bed' but hearing it in his head he decided it wasn't a good sentence at ALL at this particular moment.

"Have to what?" Her tongue was running around the outside of his ear, and his legs were starting to shake. "What do you want to do to me?" she was nipping his earlobe gently.

He let out a moan, and got hold of her wrists again. "Scully, I'm pleading with you. I'm seriously close to losing it, here. And you'd hate me if I took advantage of you like this. So, please..." his voice was barely a whisper now.

"You don't have to beg" and her wet tongue dived right into his ear, completing a circuit that ran through his whole body, making him convulse.

"FUCK!" He spun her around by the wrists and forced her body against the wall. "I can't take this, Scully, please! You have to stop, before I can't."

"That's no fun" she complained, and swivelled her pelvis against him, making his hips buck involuntarily.

"Seriously! I'm only human! It would be hard enough if I didn't already want you so bad I could scream, but this is…" He trailed off, seeing the expression on her face. Sort of... wistful. But that didn't make sense.

"You do want me, then?"

"Jesus, Scully, like nothing else on earth. but you'd KILL me if I... or worse, you'd leave me. And I can't lose you, Scully"

She looked down, sighing. "No, you need me, I know. Heaven forbid the work might suffer..."

"That's bullshit and you know it. I need you because I couldn't live without you."

In the silence, he could almost hear her mouth drop open.

"You..."

"Yeah." Suddenly he felt defeated "and if you remember this later, you'll probably be so mortified you'll never want to look me in the face again, and you'll leave me anyway, even though I'm killing myself over here to keep from nailing you to this wall with my..."

"I love you" said a very small voice which stopped his heart. She was looking at her feet. He let go one of her wrists and brought her chin up to make her face him.

"What did you say?"

"I love you, Mulder"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself.

"I want you to think really hard, Scully, try to focus, because this is my whole life on the line. Are you saying that because you're out of your head on whatever was in that cave? Or, do you... If I asked you again in a few days, would you say the same?" His heart still didn't seem to have started beating again yet.

She looked very serious. "No." She said, decidedly.

His stomach fell through the floor.

"No." he repeated, in a dead voice.

"I wouldn't say it. I'd be afraid you'd reject me. But I'm not convinced that I'm not dreaming right now, so what the hell."

She didn't seem to be slurring any more, he noticed. Maybe the stuff was wearing off? There couldn't be that much in her system, from one scratch. But she was still not herself. She couldn't really be saying... Could she?

"So, if I asked you again, you wouldn't say it, but... would you feel it?"

"I've felt it for six years, I don't think it's going anywhere."

That one hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Six years?"

"Well, the first year was more sorta... lust..." she blushed and looked at her feet. "But you're kinda addictive, you know? And each time you saved my life, you took a piece of my heart. And I only had so many pieces..."

She trailed off, and he had no words to fill the silence that ensued. He felt tears spring to his eyes, at odds with the great golden bubble of happiness welling up in his heart.

Then she continued "But it was all about the work, for you. I figured that out pretty fast. So, no, I'd never tell you. But I'm pretty sure this is a dream. All the colours are wrong."

"An hallucinogenic, then." he muttered, while his insides danced in circles and whooped for joy, and then stopped abruptly as he saw that she was crying. Instantly he had his arms around her, and she buried her face in his chest.

"What's wrong?"

Between sniffs, she managed to get out a few words. "It hurts, Mulder... it hurts to love you... when you don't... love me..."

"What? But I do, you know I do. I as good as told you."

"You did not."

He thought about it. He hadn't actually said it in so many words. But hadn't it been obvious what he meant? He supposed, if she was really THAT dense, perhaps she HADN'T known. Well, it was time to make it unequivocal.

"You complete and utter idiot. I'm completely and utterly in love with you."

She looked up at him, smiling through her tears. "I like this dream" she said.

He wiped a tear from her face and shook his head, smiling. They would have to have a serious conversation when the hallucinogen wore off. But for now... "So, where does the dream go next?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, it's MY dream, so I get to choose." She stuck her chin out stubbornly.

"That's fair." He wondered what she would choose; if she didn't remember this when the drug wore off, he would have valuable information that he could use in the future, when the time came to have 'that' conversation. And if she DID remember it... well then this was the first day of the rest of their lives.

"I think we should play a game" she nodded decisively. "It's called 'thou shalt not kiss thy partner'. "

"Well that doesn't sound fun" he pouted, disappointed.

She smiled wickedly. "Trust me".

His stomach did a little flip at the look in her eyes. "Okay... How do we play?"

"If you kiss your partner, you lose".

"I disagree. Sounds like a win-win to me..."

"That's the rules. First one to give in loses."

"Oh I see where you're going. We try to make each other lose."

"I haven't lost for six years, in spite of excessive temptation. You're going down, G Man."

"Um, actually, Arcadia?"

"Um, actually, YOU lost in Arcadia."

"Funny. Felt like winning."

She blushed.

"So, what are the rules, Miss Scully? What... techniques can we employ?"

"Well, in reality there's no need for rules, because YOU don't hit below the belt. You just get way too close to me. And sling innuendo."

"How close is too close?"

He soon regretted asking, as she immediately cupped his face and brought it down to hers so their lips were almost touching. He ached to move just that last half inch and claim her mouth.

"Anything up to here is okay" She wasn't letting him go, and the electricity continued to build. His breath sped up, but so did hers. He didn't want to be the first to pull away.

"But this is a dream, so you might do... anything..." she said shakily. "So maybe we need rules."

"No hitting below the belt. Got it." Okay, he had to pull away, or this game was going to be over way too fast. He backed up and sat on the bed, and she leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. "Round one" he commented.

She fixed her eyes on his, lids heavy, a suggestive smile playing around her lips. "Mulder, what do you think about, when you're alone at night?"

Of course, her words immediately brought his favourite night-time fantasy right to the front of his mind.

"Well played." He admitted.

"No, I want you to tell me" he couldn't seem to look away from her intense gaze.

"I see, you want to know my fantasies, to give you ammunition"

"Exactly. Spill."

Oh ho. This is going to backfire on you, little lady, he thought. You forget I'm pretty good with words.

"We're in the office. You're doing paperwork. I'm staring at your mouth."

He stared at it now, unashamedly, until she got self conscious and licked her lips.

"And you do that, and I love how your wet lips sparkle. You keep resting your pencil on your lower lip, and I want to replace that pencil with something of mine."

She flushed. Ha. One to Nothing. "I get up and come round behind you. I lean down and look over your shoulder. You look up but I'm so close your lips brush mine. I feel you shiver."

She shivered.

"I spin your chair around and put a hand on each armrest. You're trapped."

She bit her lip.

"I lean forwards, and my weight makes the seat recline so you're underneath me. You ask me what the hell I'm doing. I say I need you to get me a file. You do as you're told like a good girl."

For some reason, this made her draw in a shaky breath. He mentally filed that for later exploration.

"You're over by the filing cabinets, looking in a drawer."

He stood up.

"I come up beside you and you spin around."

He started moving towards her without taking his gaze from hers. Her eyes widened.

"I move in, you back up"

He moved in. She backed up.

"But the drawer prevents your escape."

Her back hit the wall with a gentle thud that made her gasp.

"Now you're backed against the filing cabinet. I take one of your hands and put it through the handle of a drawer."

He moved closer, until she was pressed right up against the wall, and wrapped a hand around her wrist, holding it by her side.

"I put your other hand through another handle. You can't move."

Her breathing was becoming laboured.

"You try to speak, but I put my finger on your lips. I run it down over your chin, down your neck, down between your breasts, to the first button of your shirt."

His eyes followed this path, and further, as the first two buttons were already undone. He watched her somewhat exposed chest rising and falling heavily. Hypnotic.

"I pop that pesky button, and run my fingers down to the next one. And the next. And the next…"

He saw her eyes flutter closed for a second, before she regained control and opened them again.

"I run my hands inside the shirt, from your waist, up over your breasts, your shoulders... I push the shirt off your shoulders and it pools around your wrists. I wrap it tighter. Can't have you getting away."

He gave himself a mental high-five. His face was so close to hers, and he was totally in control, for now at least, while she seemed to be struggling for breath.

"I take hold of a fistful of your hair, and pull your head back. With the other hand, I undo your front-closure bra, push it off your shoulders, and leave it hanging round your wrists with your shirt. Then I gently slide my hand up your body, and with my thumb, I gently roll your..."

"Okay, okay, stop. Fucking hell." Her bottom lip was trembling as she fought for breath. He backed away a little, and she slid slowly down the wall to the floor as if her legs wouldn't hold her. Head on her knees, she admitted "You're... rather astoundingly good at this game." Another deep breath. "Fuck."

"By the rules, that was NOT below the belt."

"No. No, it wasn't."

"I didn't have to back off just then." he mentioned, casually.

"No. That was very chivalrous of you." she said archly.

"I could totally have won already." he was grinning now.

"Hmph."

"Good comeback. Very loquacious."

"Bite me."

"Where?"

She looked up at him. "I should have known you'd be way too good at this."

He grinned again. "You're not giving up are you? I didn't finish telling you my fantasy"

"Why don't you just give me the Cliff's Notes"

"In short? Well, obviously, I fuck your brains out against the filing cabinets"

She let out a laugh. "Glib."

"I make you scream my name so loud Skinner can hear it from his office"

"Wow."

He grinned again. She tried to keep her face straight. "Maybe Skinner hears it and joins in?"

His smile vanished. "Hell no. You're all mine, Scully. No sharing."

"Yours…" she said, her eyes searching his.

"Mine" he said with finality.

They simply looked at each other for a few moments.

Then she took a deep breath, and then said, conversationally, "So, you want to fuck my brains out, huh?"

"God, yes."

"That might be a challenge. I'm quite smart." She pursed her lips, musing.

"True."

She raised an eyebrow "You may need to practise a bit."

"Yes please."

"You could start with a back rub. I've been all tensed up for ages over here without realising it. Your fault entirely. Fix me."

"Yes ma'am!"

Ha! He thought. Another hidden talent I can employ. I'm going to win this game, Scully. Then you're MINE.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bed. "Sit" he ordered. She obeyed at once, with an odd twinkle in her eyes. He crawled around behind her, and tugged a little at the collar of her shirt. His shirt. Due to the two open buttons, he was able to pull the collar a little way down her back, giving him access to her skin. He went to work. As his thumbs kneaded the tense shoulder muscles, she drew in her breath sharply.

He continued, eliciting a shaky sigh, as her head dipped to one side to give him better access. His fingers twitched, itching to run along that exposed neck. Fuck it, he thought, and stroked a finger up from her collarbone to her ear. She trembled.

He noticed movement, and saw in the reflection in the floor-length mirror that she was clenching her toes. That was a good sign.

He worked his way down her back with one thumb each side of her spine, loving the way she jerked under his hands when he reached a particularly sensitive part. He put his hands up inside the shirt to reach the lower part of her back, and heard her gasp as he made contact with the hidden skin. His fingers wrapped around her waist as he worked on her lower back with his thumbs, and she wriggled.

"That tickles!" she complained.

He ran his fingers along the waistband of the pyjama pants. She arched her back reflexively, and in the mirror he admired the view of her chest thrusting forward. "What, this?" he said, doing it again.

"Yes" she said, breathily, and his pulse picked up as images started to flash across his mind.

The pyjama pants were dangerously loose. He had access to her skin down past her hips. He wondered if the definition of 'below the belt' moved as the belt moved. In which case he just had to push the pants further down… those unbidden images reared, and he tried to get a hold of himself, but he could feel Evil-Mulder taking control.

Moving up her back and over the shirt, he took hold of her shoulders again, eliciting a small moan. His eyes glazed over a little as he watched her reflection in the mirror; eyes closed, face flushed, hair disheveled, head tipped back, his hands on her skin… Fuck, this seemed to be backfiring on HIM as much as on her.

He worked his thumbs up each side of her neck and she made little whimpering sounds with each movement, sounds which instantly made him picture her beneath him as he pounded into her…

"God, Mulder, you're good at this" she breathed.

Oh yeah. Evil-Mulder was fully in charge now, he had no control over his hands as they possessed her skin while he watched the mirror, helpless. "Am I?" he heard Evil-Mulder say.

"Yes" she gasped out, and in his head, the Scully he was mercilessly fucking was shouting 'yes! yes!'.

He was painfully hard now. Something had to give.

That exposed neck was so close. He bent his head so that his breath tickled her, and allowed his lips to just brush her tender skin.

Then she whimpered his name, and he lost it.

He swivelled out from behind her, the sudden loss of support making her fall back on the bed, and in a moment he was on top of her, pinning her wrists beside her head and finally claiming her mouth with his.

It was everything he had been picturing since that night in the Falls, and more.

He was lost in her.

Right up until the moment she pushed him away, grinned, and said

"I win"


End file.
